Gentle Man


I saw you cry, although you turned away

and looked back slyly, hoping I had not.

You seemed ashamed that I had seen you weak

and feared I would not love a man so frail.


I saw you were completely without guile,

awaiting my reaction. Did you think

I’d crush your precious gift beneath my heel?

Who taught you womankind could be so cruel?


Here are my lips to soothe your sorrow, love.

I’ll suck the sweet, salt sadness from your eyes.

See how I thirst for him who cries for me;

parched earth drenched, where joy is sure to grow.

First published in Reach





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